Grimmjow and Number 11
by secretofserenity
Summary: Aizen has a new creation. Grimmjow has to watch over her. Old alliances are forgotten, and new ones are forged. what could possibly go wrong? rated T for language. GrimmjowxOC slight UlquiorraxOrihime
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! This was originally going to be just a ulquihime, but since that's been done to death, and since Grimmjow can just never seem to find someone, I decided to give the poor guy a break. Here's my all new, super fantabulous, new pairing! Ya! Go, Grimmjow X Emigdia! Since everything in Heuco Mundo seems to be Spanish, I decided to give her a name that had significance in that language! I really wanted something that had to do with god, courtesy of Aizen's god complex. I ended up with Emigdia, which means "Half-god" which will have importance in this chapter! *Hint, Hint* I went through an awful lot of names to get that, too. Here's just a few:

Adelita (strong, courageous woman), Alisa (Noble), Anita (grace, favourable), Antonia (Invaluable), Blanca (pure, white), Deifilia(god's daughter), Dorotea (gift from god), Elena (Torch), Emigdia (half-god), Estella (star), Gabriella (warrior of god), Ibbie (god is my oath), Isbell (God is my oath), Jesusa (god is salvation), Lupe (wolf), Lupita (little wolf), Manuela (god is with us), Rafaela (has been healed by god), Renata (reborn), Teofila (Friend of god)

I still think I made the right choice! Hope you enjoy! PS: sorry about Gin's accent. I can never get it quite right… also, I KNOW THAT THERE ARE ONLY TEN ESPADAS AND I KNOW THAT THERE CAN'T BE ELEVEN ESPADAS AND WHATNOT BUT JUST GET PAST THAT OKAY?

Disclaimer: I don't own bleach!

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She opened her eyes, just in time to see the darkness close in on her. She struggled to run, but to no avail. It was like someone had strapped cinderblocks to her feet. She glanced over her shoulder with fearful eyes. The thing was still steadily making it's way towards her. She reached down to free her feet, but her hands fell through thin air. Feverishly, she called out, trying to catch herself. Looking to her hands, she saw only blackness. It was like it was midnight. No, even midnight couldn't be this dark, she thought to herself as she feebly put her hands up, in a last effort to hinder the onslaught of pain that she knew was coming. Even though it was pitch black, she could clearly make out… whatever it was that was coming towards her. The darkness currently surrounding her was normal, just like closing your eyes. But the thing, it's dark was one of unnatural origins. It felt cold, though the thick, humid air around her should not be. Where was she again? She thought hysterically. She had known just a minute ago. Where had that knowledge gone!? It was like the blob had sucked it up, right out of her head. She raked her brain, unsuccessfully trying to remember where she lived.

"You live with me now." the ominous voice boomed around her, seemingly coming out of the dark sky itself. She cocked her head to the side, looking up. She had no more time to think. That slight motion of her head upwards was all the distraction the thing needed. In the next second, it pounced on her, pulling her into it's center.

The girl gasped, the familiar feeling of being underwater playing on her senses. She began cupping the water and trying to force her way out before she drowned. A strange numbness began crawling up her feet. She ignored the feeling, focusing on the object at hand. She kept her mind off the growing hysteria by putting all her fear into her stroke. Reach, pull, reach, pull. She visibly relaxed as the familiar motion began taking her closer to the edge of the thing.

She heard a throaty laugh, instinctively stopping the stroke. The same booming voice came as before. This time she was able to identify it as male. "This is the longest one of them's ever lasted. She's going to be a strong one, Gin." he finished proudly.

Suddenly she became painfully aware of the numbness now currently working it's way up her shoulders. She squealed, accidentally letting out the breath she'd been holding. The water forced itself down her throat, as the numbness picked up double speed, capturing her whole body in a coma like state. She sat for a few blissfully short seconds in numbness. Then, as quickly as the numbness had come, it disappeared, turning into a burning sensation that was steadily growing more potent. The only thought that was even half coherent in the searing pain was one of surprise as the air bubbles from the breath that she had let out, instead of floating upwards, floated off in all directions, flattening, and forming a eight way mirror around her. The pain was becoming unbearable and she considered sucking in water just to make it stop. Something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. she looked to the mirrors. A double of herself appeared in each of them. Every one of them was wearing a mask. She clutched at her chest, just below her collarbone was where the pain seemed to be centered. It felt like the skin was being ripped away, like someone had shoved their hand into her chest, and was now clutching her heart, extracting it.. She looked down, expecting to see darkness, but instead her vision was met by a crimson cloud of swirling blood floating through the water. She did a double take. The blood seemed to have no source. It just floated out from the darkness. She cringed as the pain began again. She was losing consciousness. In her last effort, she feebly covered her face from the doubles that now seemed to be leaning out of the mirrors, one hand extended towards her. Then the pain became too much, and she gladly welcomed what she was sure was death.

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The man stood proudly over his latest creation. He turned to smile at his accomplice. The white-haired man that was stood off to the side, took a step closer to his friend. "Well, she's a pretty thang, now ain't she?"

The brown haired man made no move, but the fellow exiled shinigami knew from his silence that he agreed.

Ichimaru Gin inspected the girl, smiling. Her partial mask covered only from her hairline down half the side of her face, much like Ulquiorra's. hers was more in the plain variety, though, with only a short horn protruding from the top. Her features were also fine, he thought as he inspected her violently black hair. As he leaned closer, he could make out hot pink splotches here and there.

Aizen grinned, kneeling down as her eyes fluttered open. "Welcome, Emigdia. My newest creation, and newest addition to the Espadas."

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Grimmjow Jeagerjaques was _not_ in a good mood. Not that that's anything new… he strolled down the stark white hallways, sadistically laughing at the frightened expressions of the lower ranking Arrancars. This always seemed to improve his mood. Going down to the lower levels of Heuco Mundo, and scaring the living hell out of the Hollows there. Maybe chop a few of 'em up, even. He thought as he happily fingered the hilt of his Zanpaktou.

But, of course, something had to happen to ruin his newly improved mood. "All Espada, report to Aizen-Sama's throne room for a short meeting."

Grimmjow growled, unsheathing his Zanpaktou and quickly cutting cleanly through an unsuspecting Arrancar to his side. Smirking, he made his way down the hall.

Three sliced Arrancars later, Grimmjow stood at the huge doors of the throne room. He pushed them open, interrupting the meeting already taking place inside. He was, like always, fashionably late. He unceremoniously plopped down in his seat, nonchalantly scratching behind his ear. "What'd I miss?" he barked, enjoying the annoyed expression on Tousen's face. God, he loved to piss that guy off. Thinking of the other guy he loved to piss of, he glanced across the table at the Cuatro Espada. Ulquiorra's eyes met his briefly, before the intensely green orbs flickered away. Grimmjow growled. That guy'd been acting like a pansy ever since he'd been entrusted with the duty of watching over that useless woman.

Grimmjow reluctantly turned his gaze back to his master. "We were just discussing the birth of your newest sister, Emigdia." he said as he clasped his hands.

Grimmjow raised one blue eyebrow. Emigdia? Why would he name her Half-god? Did he think that she was better then them, or what?

His thoughts were interrupted by Aizen. "She will be taking a spot amongst you very soon. Although, right now, it seems she has somehow retained a shred of humanity. She is reluctant to use her powers, and has labeled herself as a 'monster'"

"Of course, all she needs is to have her spirit broken. Usually the rebirthing does this for me, but this is a special case. One of you will have to be chosen to complete this task for me. It will be one of the highest honours, I intend to take her as my bride once she is mentally healed."

Grimmjow snorted. So that's what the entire 'Half-god' thing was all about.

Aizen looked to Ulquiorra. "Usually I would trust Ulquiorra with this task, but since I've already burdened him with that _women_," his voice was not entirely kind while he talked about her. As soon as his voice took that tone, Ulquiorra's eyes snapped open, and his reitsu began to turn murderous. Aizen raised his eyebrow at Ulquiorra, as if saying 'bring it'.

Eventually his reitsu levelled back out, and he settled down, only a little more tense than he had been before. "My apologies, Aizen-Sama."

Aizen nodded, waiting for his excuse. But, when it became apparent that Ulquiorra wasn't going to give one, Aizen turned his gaze to Grimmjow instead. "As I was saying, that _women_," Aizen turned his gaze back to Ulquiorra, whose hand was in a fist on the table, knuckles white, before he continued. "Has caused enough problems for my dear Cuatro. Therefore, the Espada I have chosen for this job is…"

Grimmjow took his head off the table, straightening up. He had to be fricking kidding!

"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, my Sexta Espada."

Grimmjow was up and out of that room in a split second. He glared menacingly at the walls as he walked, searching for something he could stab to death.

When he was starting to come down (or at least, heuco Mundo wasn't at risk of being destroyed) the image of Ulquiorra popped into his mind.

With a snarl, Grimmjow stabbed his Zanpaktou into the wall, causing a crack to come into being, covering the diameter of the wall.

At least he wasn't going to let this turn him into a friggin pansy, like _someone he knew._

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_Okay, please tell me what YOU think! I really need to know! Sorry if you think that Emigdia is kinda a weird name, but I think it fits in. I mean, think about it: Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, Nnoitra… ya. _


	2. Chapter 2

Hi, I'm back for the second instalment of Grimmjow and Number 11!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!!

PS: is my spell check retarded? It thinks that the word 'girl' is spelt incorrectly. LOL!

PPS: if Emigdia seems a little… I dunno… _masochistic_ in this chapter, that's because she feels like she is a monster. Her character will change a lot as she comes out of her depression.

PPPS: last thing, I promise! In Emigdia's flashback, I don't know what year it is. You'll just have to guess yourself. At this time, Emi doesn't even know what time it is. So, you can't know anything she doesn't concerning the memories.

Ok, I'm about to break the promise. I was thinking of doing a ulquihime story… if I did, here's what the title would be like:

The Angel and The Demon

Summary: And so, the man and woman with the taste of forbidden fruit on their tongues, pursue this newfound interest.

But, be forewarned, if I DO write this, don't expect fast updates or anything. I'm already being crushed by the weight of my schedule!

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Emigdia was huddled in the corner of the stark white room. There was a couch in the center, that would be much more comfier than the hard, and slightly damp floor. But she didn't feel that she deserved comfort. She was a monster, she thought as she brought her hand up to once again inspect the warning that she now carried on her face, a warning to stay away. She looked to the plate of food that a servant had wheeled in for her. She was absolutely starved, but she refused to eat. But, looking at the inviting meal, her resolve wavered, so she returned her gaze to the floor. She just couldn't find a reason to live anymore. With that depressing thought, she fell to her side. She'd landed on something sharp, and it was uncomfortable. She didn't make any move to remove the item now lodged tightly under her. She closed her eyes, trying to remember anything past today. Nothing happened. Name… she thought, feeling like her brain was exploding. What is my name? her mind instantly answered her question, bringing to the surface, a memory from earlier today. "Emigdia," he had said, apparently addressing her, "That is your name. Remember it well, Emigdia."

It was wrong, and she knew it. That was the monster's name, not her's. the voice had been striving for parental, but the side of her brain that was still human had told her otherwise. It carried with it an undertone of bitterness. But it was all she had to go on. She would not take the entire name, though. Perhaps just Emi. Simple, and yet it still bared part of the monster's name, a constant reminder of the burden that now weighed down her soul. When she'd first arrived here, the man had told her it was heaven, and that she was one of his angels. It was not heaven here. She was sure. She was a demon, and demons belonged in hell. It was simple logic. It may not be painful here, she noted as she looked at the couch, but the knowledge would not stop battering her. This was hell.

She felt unhuman. There was something foreign in her soul. Something cowering in the back, waiting for it's chance to take over. She also hid from it. She would occasionally try to reach into that dark part of herself, only to cowardly pull back as if it had physically burnt her. Burning. That word was like a key to how she'd ended up here. Darkness, pain, masks. She clutched at her head, trying to ease the pain as the memories came flooding back to her. Remembering the sensation that had come with the darkness. The searing pain that she only now remembered. She winced. She now became aware of another's presence. How she knew? She had no idea. She just did. Her eyes flickered towards the barred window above her head. The first thing she saw was the brilliant orange, glowing like a beacon in the boring room. Then, a girls face followed the colour, smiling from behind the bars as if they were nothing.

The girl's face brightened as she realized Emi was watching her. "Ah! You're awake! I'm Inoue Orihime!" she exclaimed.

Only when Emi didn't respond did Orihime note the uncomfortable position her body was in. "what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

The teen actually seemed to be concerned that she was harmed. Emi couldn't understand why. Didn't she see the monster right in front of her. "Do you know what I am?"

Emi started at the sound of her voice. It created a whirlwind of memories that Emi knew she shouldn't possess. Human memories. They were grainy and she couldn't make out anyone's face, but they were definitely her's.

Orihime's smile faded at Emi's question. "Of course I do." she stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're the same as Ulquiorra-san! You even have the same personality!" she added with a light-hearted chuckle.

At the sound of the laugh, Emi sat up. This girl could still talk to her as if she were human. That was enough for her for right now.

Emi folded her legs under her and met Orihime's gaze with a weary look. "Are you also one of them?" as soon as the question was out of her mouth, Emi regretted it. Of course she wasn't.

Orihime didn't look offended, though. "Oh, no. I'm just a captive." she added with a smile, like it was something she said everyday. The minute she said it, Emi slapped herself. The redhead's spiritual pressure was like a grain of sand compared to the others. And, as much she hated to admit it, her own.

Emi raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that's partially what I am. Perhaps we could discuss this further in the future?"

Orihime giggled again.

Emi suddenly felt self-conscious. Maybe this girl did actually see the monster and was just toying with her. "What is it!" she demanded.

"You just reminded me so much of Ulquiorra-san back there. He always talks so formally."

Emi returned her gaze to the floor, wishing for a mirror. "Could you… could you tell me what I look like?"

Orihime seemed slightly taken aback at the request, but answered thoughtfully, putting her hand under her chin whilst scrutinizing Emi. "Hmm… I guess only your attitude is the same as Ulquiorra, your appearance is different. Where to start… Oh! You have pink eyes! How cool is that!" she said, clapping her hands. "And…and you have pink streaks! Maybe you're secretly a pop star? Oh! And you have to have an alter-ego because you want to still have a normal life! Like that girl everyone is always talking about in the real world! And…and…"

Orihime continued rambling about superstars, odd people who dye their hair different colours, and witches. Witch… Emi gasped as another memory was forcibly pulled from the far regions of her mind. It was clearer this time, she could hear people talking.

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_Emi was running, pumping her arms against her sides, and breathing raggedly. Her lungs protested as she took another gulp of air. Every muscle in her body hurt, and when she drew breath, it felt like someone was burning her throat. She continued pushing herself harder, trying to put as much distance between her and her pursuers. The pounding of her feet on the dirt combined with the ringing in her ears, created a strange kind of rhythm, like drum beats._

_She slipped, skidding forward on the ground. She hissed as the skin of her knees was rubbed away. She could never run with this kind of attire. To hell with what her father wanted, she thought as she ripped the bottom half of her kimono, allowing her legs more freedom. Her father would probably scold her for that later, but she chose to ignore the nagging thought by shoving it in the back of her mind. She jumped up, gaining even more speed now that the troublesome thing was gone. She rounded the corner, and skidded to a stop, her feet sliding for a while before finding purchase. She turned back around, to meet the eyes of the older girls._

"_Come on!" someone was urging her._

_Emi clutched at her hair, shaking her head. "Your hair colour is so weird, witchcraft, or something'"_

_Emi continued backing away. "I love my hair colour. It's natural."_

_Some of the other girls laughed. "No, it isn't. Don't lie. You know that it's not natural. Everyone knows you make it that colour. Who has pink hair! Only witches do."_

_Emi now had her back against the wall. "I do. Besides, it's not all pink! There's some black in it, too!" she protested, grabbing a chunk of the raven coloured portions to prove her point. _

"_You probably dyed that colour too, witch!" they said, laughing again. _

"_So? that's the colour of all _your_ guys hair!" she said, willing her voice not to quiver. _

"_Drop the act, witch. It's abnormal, talking about seeing monsters, and people in black. We've also witnessed your witchery, making things happen with your hands. It's wrong." Emi gasped, she had thought that she was hidden away, in the crook of the river, when she had experimented with the strange happenings."_

"_You girls think that your so cool because you can pick on seven year old girls like me! When are you going to learn to grow up and pick on people your own age!" she spat, puffing out her chest._

_The other girls' faces flushed in anger, and they pulled back slightly. "Why, you! Somebody ought to teach you how to regard your superiors!" with that, the blond teenager had reared back, flattening her hand. Emi instinctively brought her arms up just in time to stop the blow from reaching her face. She cringed as the older girl's nails dug into her flesh. She hesitantly lowered her hands, mind already mapping out an escape route. "Aha!" she exclaimed upon seeing an unblocked spot._

'_not this time' she thought, she reared to one side, then turned back around, faking them out. She ducked underneath the tallest one's kimono, crawling out the other side. She had a few brief moments of victory before her hair was grasped, pulling her forcibly back. _

_Emi had time to think 'crap' before she was in the center of them, her hair being pulled out. She felt tears sting her eyes, and bit her lip to stop the onslaught of emotions._

_Then, suddenly, she was free, falling down to the ground. Then she heard the voice. "So, you're still so weak that ya gotta be picking on little girls. Pathetic." Emi couldn't see him, her eyes had teared up in the last few chaotic minutes, but she heard his voice and was immediately filled with bravery. Who was this person?_

_She wiped at her eyes, wanting to see the face of her saviour. "Get outta here!" he yelled over his shoulder. Something in his voice told her not to ask questions, and to just obey._

_Emi got up, and ran blindly away from them. _

_Skidding across the corner, she knew that she couldn't go home. At least, not right then. Attempting to even out the jagged bottom of her kimono, she ripped parts away, trying to fabricate what she was going to tell Father. "it's what everyone is wearing. Some girls in the street kindly offered to help me." she practiced, still trying to ignore her smarting eyes. _

_Knowing that her kimono was a lost cause, she slid down the wall back of her, and hugged her knees close. _

_She could still hear the screams of "Witch!" from down the street._

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Emi was pulled from the dream, gasping as she again realized where she was. The white room seemed to loom over her, so much different then that of the short, squat walls from the memory. She had been human once. Instead of calming her like the thought should have, she found herself full of a livid fire, burning it's way up her throat. Who would do such a thing to someone?!

"Oh! There's Ulquiorra-san! Bye!" the sound of Orihime's voice made Emi realize that the teen had been talking this entire time. Emi, still seated on the floor, could hear the creak of a door, and then an immense reitsu, whom she guessed to be "Ulquiorra-san"

Curiosity was a much more tempting incentive to get up than anything else, and soon Emi found herself rising, and peeking through the bars. She gasped, quickly drawing a hand over her mouth to keep her presence a secret. From the little she had seen of Ulquiorra on the day of her rebirth, he had seemed like the type that stayed closed off, strictly business. Currently, he was in the process of stroking Orihime's long, red hair.

At first emi had thought that he was tugging at her hair as a punishment, only to see the look of pure contentment on Orihime's face.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! Sorry I haven't been updating as fast as I should be. I've been...busy...*so guilty*

pS: if you hate that poem I wrote for this chapter, I am SORRY! It's just something I slapped together! Also, I didn't actually mean to make Emi this religious. But, I guess, when your life is falling apart, it's really all you have left to turn to. Oh, by the way, 'Once' means eleven in Spanish! And, I don't know if Nnoitra is the quinta Espada or not. I haven't gotten that far yet!

SUPER SPECIAL MESSAGE!: at the end of this chapter, in the commentary, you can be expecting a super…special…guest!

Disclaimer: If I owned anything, would I be writing a disclaimer? I do own Emigdia, though! And the poem. (although I think it's pretty crappy. I just pieced it together in a minute or two. Lols)

REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Without your input, how can I make the story better? I can't. So REVIEW! Please?

........................................................................................................................................................................ At first emi had thought that he was tugging at her hair as a punishment, only to see the look of pure contentment on Orihime's face.

Emi suddenly felt as if she was intruding into someone else's private space. She felt compelled to look away, so she did. It was odd, this feeling. She could hardly remember feeling love. Even in her memory, she couldn't't quite recall the feeling of it. Now, being here to witness it, it was a shock. The concentration of the feeling was so intense. Just this simple feeling that she was picking up from the two teens in the room next to her felt like enough of a reason to live. It made Emi feel like she should live. A feat that she had been struggling to accomplish for the last two days!

She pushed away from the bars of her cell, before the young lovers could notice her. But, even though she tried not to, she couldn't't help but sneak a quick peek again. She glanced, but only for a second, because as soon as she did, Ulquiorra's green eyes met with hers, and she saw again the dangerous being before her. With unhuman speed, she ducked down, her heart beating to an erratic rhythm.

Her reflexes were far more acute than the memory had portrayed them. She mentally slapped herself. Of course they were! She was a filthy monster now. Even then, she couldn't help but think of what she had seen in the room adjacent to hers. One of her fellow monsters being kind, gentle, being LOVED.

And, though she tried to quickly distinguish this flame of hope that had kindled itself inside of her, she found that she couldn't. there was a hope that she wasn't a lost cause, a hope that, perhaps, she could be loved again.

She looked to the sofa. Maybe, she could sleep on it, just once. She crawled towards it, experimentally pushing down the pillows. The seemed pretty comfortable. Very comfortable. Maybe, just for a second. Just to see if it was as welcoming as it looked, just to rest her eyes.

Those hopes were all lost the second her head hit the pillow.

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Grimmjow pushed the food cart down the white halls. Now he just felt like Ulquiorra. God dammit, he wasn't going to end up a weakling like him. At even the thought of that, his lips pulled back subconsciously into something akin to a snarl.

Consumed in his thoughts, he almost walked completely past the door to the new one's room. He pushed it open with a bark of "Hey, numero Once! I brought your food! Now come here and eat it, so I can get the hell outta here!"

With no response, he plunged into the half lit room. Walking around the couch, he felt something brush against his leg. He jumped slightly, then scolded himself. He was a vasto lord, after all.

Turning, he saw a girl, no, a _woman_ asleep on the couch, her hand brushing his hip as he walked by. Before he knew what was happening, his hand had shot out of it's own accord to touch her unreal looking hair. It ran itself through one of the pink streaks, and then down to her shoulder. Her skin was smooth and soft. It then moved back up to her mask, but at this time he regained control of it, rearing back. For some reason this all seemed too familiar to him. He left the food by her, quickly opening the door and making his escape.

No, he would not be like Ulquiorra. He would _not_ become a pansy! He mentally yelled at himself. But then, the feeling of her skin came back to him, and his hand longed to stroke it again.

He put a hand to his head, mentally forgetting the whole thing. _this never happened_ he told himself.

Then, the sight of her jumped back in front of him.

He sighed, a rare sight. Maybe it would just be easier to ask Aizen to tell someone else to take care of her.

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Emi woke to the moonlight shining through the window, her right hand tingling oddly. She shook it around to rid herself of the feeling. The weirdest part was... it felt kind of...nice. Just a pleasant warm sensation. Ever since she had come here, she had been cold to the touch. She felt dead. Which, technically, she guessed she was. When the shaking didn't make the feeling go away, she took to rubbing her hand. That didn't work, either.

Passing the tingling off as a lost cause, she turned to look out the window. How she loved the moon. She kept the lights off so that she could see it better. It's brilliance was matched only by that of the human world's moon. That moon was certainly brighter, and less menacing. It seemed that every thing here was menacing. How could they not be, when they are continually shrouded in darkness? If only they could see the beauty of the sun, in the human world.

Emi cringed at the thought. The human world... she would probably never see it again. Never feel the warmth of the sun, never again see the moon from that perspective. She would only know the dark side of the moon now. The menacing one. Was she menacing now, too? She had to be. Even if she had once been alive as an innocent, the world could not forgive her for what she'd become now. Even hell didn't want her now. No, she corrected herself, this WAS hell.

All she had left of the human world, and who she used to be, who she wanted to be again, was the fading wisps of the memory that she clutched for dear life. But, it was all a futile effort. The memory would fade, surely along with any sanity she managed to retain. As she looked out longingly at the eternal night, she remembered the beginning of a poem she had once heard.

Love is like a nocturnal flower.

When the moon is happy, it blossoms.

When the moon is sad, it wilts.

When the moon is angry, it burns.

She could not remember where she heard it, and passed it off as something she had learned in the mortal world. She clung to this, also. This was a part of her that she could keep, praying for salvation. A part of her in better days. She remembered what her brilliantly pink and black hair had looked like, and felt like in the memory. What did it look like now?

She hadn't really had any way to see it. It should've been the least of her concerns, but she thought that if she looked the same as she had in the memory, when she wasn't a monster, she could put off the onslaught of madness that she knew was coming. She didn't want to think of herself as a monster. At least, not anymore. She couldn't live like this, hating herself. But, she had to hate herself. She was a monster. But she didn't want to be, oh, she didn't choose it. She was sure that heaven, if there was one, would understand that. They had to.

She stopped herself. She was just talking in circles, getting no where. Circular conundrums would do nothing but confuse her.

She got up from the couch. Her muscles were surprisingly stiff. She gazed longingly at the bed. How much more comfortable it would be. She ignored the urge to climb into the covers. She wasn't so healed that she thought she deserved a bed. She may not loath herself to the point where she couldn't stand it anymore, but she still didn't believe she deserved to live in complete happiness.

She rubbed sleep from her eyes as she took a groggy step to the left. She almost tripped over something. There was a food cart, sitting by where she had been sleeping. She speculated the lavish food sitting on the plate. Her stomach gave a huge growl. She turned away. She didn't deserve food, she didn't deserve food. She kept telling herself this. But, her stomach growled again. How would she make sure that she didn't accidentally use the powers that she knew she possessed, if she was absolutely starving?

But, she wouldn't eat the rich looking soup, or the sweet toffee sitting next to that. She picked up the soggy bun. She only ate half of it. That was all she needed to make sure that she didn't pass out from hunger. Perhaps she wasn't as mentally stable as she thought she was. Again, she felt disgusted with herself for eating, when she had seen, in her memory, children huddled beside garbage cans, begging for food.

But, even as she sat in self loathing, she felt the hope flare inside her. She felt like eating more. The smell was wafting around the room, tempting her. She almost gave in, but stopped herself at the last second. No more food. The man who created her would just use her to hurt people. She grabbed the plate full of temptation, and ran over to her window. She was too short to reach it, and she had to step around on her tippytoes. She grabbed one of the bars to steady herself, and dumped the pile of food out the window.

She heard the contented splat as the food hit the ground, three stories below. Emi sighed happily, the enticement long gone.

She slid down the wall, until she was sitting on the damp floor again. She stared at the wall opposite her, not quite sure what to do with herself now.

………………………………............................................................................................................................

Grimmjow continued down the hall towards the woman's room. He hadn't wanted to be heading this way ever again. He'd asked Aizen to change his duty. Helluva lot of help that'd been. Stupid man. He didn't know why everyone always acted like he was the best damn thing this side of the world had ever put out.

He remembered the useless conversation, and barked out a sadistic laugh.

As he mocked the man who had created him, he subconsciously twisted the revealing uniform he had been told to give to the girl.

The same as last time, he wasn't paying attention, and walked right past her door. It was tucked away into a small corner so it was hard to find it, the fact that there was never any lights on didn't help. He turned on his heel, and threw open the door. "Hey! Girl! Get out here!" he commanded.

It was dark in the room, like before. He searched for the light switch, but quickly gave up. Why the hell did she like the dark so much?

He rapped his knuckles against the wall. "Hey! If ya don't come out, I'm coming in after ya!" he warned. His non-existent heart jumped at the thought, and he growled under his breath. What the hell was it about this girl? He hated her for making him act like an idiot.

Still, no sound. He was about to take another step into the room, when he heard a voice. "Do you have to be so loud? I'm actually trying to relax."

The voice gave him an unwelcome wave of déjà vu, which he shut down immediately. He took in a breath to bark threats and orders at her, but she interrupted him. Again. "So, who're you?"

"Ya don't need to know my name. Now shut the hell up, and get out here, Woman!" he shouted, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm not coming out until you address me properly!" she said, sounding bored.

He scratched his ear, already seeing just how troublesome she would make his life. "How the hell can I do that if I don't even know yer name?" he yelled into the blackness.

"Call me Emi."

………………………………............................................................................................................................

"Call me Emi." she responded.

"Whatever. _Emi._" he stressed the word, sounding sarcastic. "Get out here, and try this on." she heard fabric hit the floor, a few feet a head of her. With a sigh, she reached over and took it. It was silky feeling, and slid around in between her hands. She had to squeeze it tightly to keep it from slipping away.

Her inspection of the clothing was cut short by Grimmjow's impatient voice. "Well, don't just stand there gawking at it. Put it on!" he commanded.

Emi looked down at the off-white, smock like shirt she had been wearing for the past day or two. "Turn around!" she called through the darkness.

"I couldn't see ya even if I wanted to. It's too goddamn dark!"

Emi sighed, seeing his point. As she slipped the smock over her head, though, she still felt self-conscious. She got the prickly feeling you get when you know someone's watching. "Turn around!" she yelled, louder this time.

What was it about this person that made her so brave? Perhaps it was that he was one of her kind. That disgusting thought made her shiver. But, all of this seemed like it was happening for the second time. She ignored the feeling, and quickly pulled on the dress, careful to stay out of his line of sight.

When she had it on, she checked to make sure she had it on right. She was sure the amount of skin it was revealing was indecent.

"Are ya finished?" Grimmjow shouted. His voice was projected over his shoulder, she could tell. So, he had turned around. Eventually.

She answered him by standing up, and walking towards the door. When he sensed her behind him, he turned to look.

Emi tugged at the bottom of the black-trimmed dress, which showed far too much leg. It also revealed her shoulders, and a dangerous amount of cleavage. Not that she had any.

Emi was too preoccupied with keeping the dress at a civilized length to see the way Grimmjow's jaw dropped. By the time she glanced up, he had composed himself back into his usual scowl.

He was covering his mouth, staring at her. Emi got self-conscious. Not that she really cared what another monster thought about her, but if he was planning to do something, she wanted to know.

She plunked down on the couch, the almost sleepless night before catching up with her. Suddenly, she was extremely tired. She waved at Grimmjow, motioning for him to leave. Then, in a matter of seconds, she was lost in a world of dreams.

……………………………….....................................................................................................................

Grimmjow growled. Her attitude bothered him. She acted like she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. He walked to where she lay on the couch, and looked down at her.

Grimmjow hated being predictable. He oughtta teach her a lesson. He smiled. Her dress had come up a little in her sleep, and he reached forward to touch her leg, only to stop inches from her skin.

He urged himself to touch her, the way he would with that redheaded woman, or any other for that matter. But, he couldn't make himself do it. No matter how he tried, he always pulled back at the last second.

He closed his eyes. What was it abut this woman? Why could he not be himself around her? He felt like someone else entirely. He thought about her odd obsession with the darkness. She was something else, alright. He chuckled darkly. Trust Aizen to stick him with someone crazy. He put a tanned hand to his aching temple.

He blindly reached forward for support, and was surprised that his hand reached her leg this time. She mumbled, and he peeked at her. Still asleep. Damn, she was a heavy sleeper, he noted.

He looked at the alabaster skin under his hand. Why was he able to touch her now? He thought back. Before, he had been thinking about hurting her. This time, he had only been noting her strange mannerisms. She mumbled again, and shifted uncomfortably. He looked down, and realized his hand was still flush against her thigh. He removed it quickly, as if she were acid.

Heat spread through his cheeks. He brought a hand to his face. What was this? Was he falling ill?

He didn't like it. It made him feel…human.

He threw open her doors, light spilling into her room, illuminating the usually dark room. He walked down the halls, the questions he still hadn't answered buzzing around inside his head, like a hive of angry bees.

What was this feeling of déjà vu?

Who was Emigdia, the Once Espada?

Why is he so interested in her?

He still had no answers.

He walked into a wall of flesh. He took a step back, growling out a threat. The quinta Espada grinned down at him. "Watch where you're going, sexta!"

"I was thinking!" Grimmjow blurted out without considering his words first.

Nnoitra grinned wider. "The sexta Espada, thinking?!" he said incredulously. Grimmjow snarled. Nnoitra backed up. "The world must be ending, it's the apocalypse!" he said, covering his head from imaginary meteoroids.

He laughed blackly at Grimmjow's annoyed expression. Nnoitra leaned closer to his face. "Don't hurt yourself, sexta!" he whispered.

"Shut up, ya idiotic fool!" he rumbled.

The black haired Espada threw his head back and laughed. "What are you going to do? Give me a riddle?"

Grimmjow smiled. "Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of this." he replied, beginning to charge a cero.

He had a split second to enjoy the bewildered expression on Nnoitra's face, before the cero was ready, and he shot it at the black haired man. It wasn't enough to seriously wound him, just teach him a much needed lesson. Nnoitra went flying through a line of pillars, creating a cloud of dust.

For a moment, Grimmjow thought he had misjudged the strength of the cero, and seriously believed he had killed him.

Then, the dust started to thin, and Nnoitra's voice roared from behind the wall of debris. "I'm going to fricking _kill you!"_

_He never had a chance to go through with his threat, however, seeing how in the next second, Grimmjow was already gone._

………………………………_............................................................................................................................_

_Hello! Did you enjoy it? Now…the special surprise guest you've all been expecting…GRIMMKITTY!!!!_

_Grimmjow: the hell am I doing here?_

_Me: because I love cats, and was too lazy to think of anyone else._

_Grimmjow: …_

_Me: oh, come on! *gestures to giant crowd* all these fan girls came here to see you! Don't be like that. *scratches Grimmy's head* nice kitty!_

_Grimmjow: …yer fricking crazy, Serenity._

_Me: KYAAAAAA! He called me by my first name!!!!! *faints*_

_Crowd of Rabid Fangirls: GET HER!!!!!! *grabs pitchforks*_

_Me: …That's all for now, Folks! *runs off stage*_

_Fangirls: *chase after her*_

_Me: *from backstage* before the Fangirls kill me, my last wish is to have several more reviews! PLEASE!_

_Hehe, thank you for listening to my insanity! Trust me, there will be more in the future!_

_Also, I've discovered plot holes in my fic big enough to drive a truck through, so, needless to say, I won't be updating for a while!_


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